Written Back In
by Oz the Magician
Summary: Following they holy terror: Kevin is Dead, Sam/Gadreel is missing, Cas stole an angel's grace and Dean's a wreck. And that's not even including the massacre of angels and hell gate still being wide open. Deciding to step in Chuck is given the chance to rewrite one character back into his story in order to save the Earth. And who better then everyone's favorite trickster?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Winchesters have long since been surrounded by a suffocating veil of death, infecting everything that was consumed by its never ending darkness. Newest on this seemingly endless list was their young prophet companion, advanced placement student from Michigan, Kevin Tran. The young man lay crumpled onto the wooden floors of the Men of Letters' library, his eyes nothing but coal lumps, lying where his sockets once were.

Not a foot away from the remains was eldest Winchester watching the sight in horror. With a shaking hand hovering over his mouth he bit into his thumb to keep from crying out Kevin's name yet again. His muscular legs barely keeping him up forcing him to use one of the large, marble pillars for support. A mantra of 'Kevin', 'Cas' and 'Sammy' were all that passed his trembling lips. In one sudden moment it was as if Dean had lost everything.

On the opposite side of the grand room, was the familiar reaper, Tessa. Next to her, standing tall, wearing a solemn frown was Death himself. They observed as a warm, blue light emitted from Kevin's corpse, transforming into an apparition of the former prophet.

"What happened?" Kevin stuttered, staring at Tessa with a confused and worried look. She looked over to Death who only gave a slight nod, signaling to talk, before disappearing out of sight.

"You're dead," Tess begins with a deep breath. The aching feeling she was getting that Kevin was not supposed to be dead making it harder to explain his newfound predicament, "The angel inside Sam, Gadreel, killed you."

Kevin looked distraught from the new information but masked that emotion with one of fury, "Very funny but joke's over. Who the fuck are you and where are Sam and Dean?"

Wordlessly, Tessa motioned to the other side of the room, to where his body lay. The room was still, only the sound of Dean's raspy voice pleading for help echoed through the space. Kevin walked over slowly in trepidation of what he now saw. He looked at the gruesome sight for only a second before turning away in disgust.

"Nonono" Kevin whispered, then with a stronger voice exclaimed to the reaper, "I can't be dead, Dean and Sam still need help."

He was right, Tessa thought bitterly, he was supposed to have been alive for many more years, hunting with the Winchester boys. Hell, half of the people who defended the Winchesters died an untimely death, but now was not the time for that. She took in a deep breath, pushing back the other thoughts, and responded, "You may be right, but either way it is your time to rest. Your mother and your girlfriend are waiting for you."

"But-," Kevin was cut off.

"Kevin, there's no way to come back, I'm sorry but you need to move on," Tessa declared. She refused to have a good kid like Kevin become a goddamn super-martyr like Dean and Bobby, "You deserve peace."

Kevin's cast his eyes downward, hiding his unshed tears of cruel acceptance, "Okay. Okay I'll go."

Tessa reached out and pulled the former prophet forward, bringing him into a warm hug and with a bright flash of light Kevin was gone.

Elsewhere, in parts unknown to almost every being in the world, sat Chuck. Bottles of whiskey littered the floor, far too many bottles for any human to drink and still be alive let alone conscious. His head was collapsed on the keyboard of his dingy computer.

"How is your story going old friend?" Death asked suddenly appearing in the seat beside Chuck. The only being in the universe that seemed to find him no matter where he was.

Chuck lifted his head just enough to glare at Death himself, "Your reaper just took my prophet, Sam Winchester is almost completely lost from me, my creations are massacring each other. It's going fucking swell. How do you think it is?"

Death nodded, grabbing one of the half empty bottles from nearby and pouring them two glasses.

"I don't know what to do," Chuck took a large swig of whiskey, "I can't intervene because they won't learn, but if I don't…"

Chuck trailed off, looking down at the deep brown liquid, wondering what had gone wrong. Death sighed, it pained him to see his friend like this though his mask of neutrality remained firmly in place.

"You know," Death began, setting down his glass, his brown eyes boring into Chuck's crystal blue ones, "I do believe I may still owe you a favor."

Chuck's head popped up, his eyes full of hope, "Really?"

Death rolled his eyes, "Yes, but this is the last revival you get."

Chuck chuckled cracking his knuckles, ideas of where the story would go now bursting the seams of his brain, "That's what you said when I brought back Dean the first time."

"Have fun with that story of yours. Don't kill of any more of your characters." Death's lip twitched upward before disappearing from the room.

"Now who to write in?" Chuck muttered, drumming his thumbs against the mahogany table before snapping, coming up with the perfect ending for the long Chronicles of the Winchesters.

_And in that one moment, when everything seemed to be for naught_, Chuck's hands moved hastily across the keyboard, _writing faster than he had in ages, a small ray of hope came crashing to the ground in the form of a five foot eight former trickster._

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Being brought back into the world only to plummet to the Earth, it turned out, was not an enjoyable experience in Gabriel's opinion. The usual rush that came with being in the air was now replaced with a sense of terror and dread for the nearing ground. With an uncomfortable crack echoing throughout the sky, Gabriel's six golden wings unfurled, catching him just above the tree line. He looked around confused, unfamiliar with this new and color filled scenery. Only moments prior he and his grace had been scattered throughout the entire universe, floating around without a consciousness.

"What are you planning father?" Gabriel mumbled, looking at his surrounding trees as he tried to get a vague understanding of where he was. And where was the Host? Wouldn't they have picked up on powerfully godly activity live bringing and all powerful archangel back to life? Gabriel pouted, he had so been looking toward to Heaven's version of the welcoming committee. A lingering feeling of his father's power sent shivers down Gabriel's spine as it gave him one final push west. The surge of pure energy guiding him were to go almost felt foreign.

"Fine, fine I'm goin'" Gabriel snapped at the force of power, using his colossal wings to raise him high enough into the air to be out of reach from the human eye. As he ascended into the sky on another mission from his mysterious father, the former trickster being to reminisce about his two favorite muttonheads and his favorite little brother, wondering how the two hunters had been for these past years.

The eldest hunter had been terrible these past twenty four hours. With no one to help cope with the loss of the newest addition to the Winchester family and the disappearance of the angel holding his brother captive, Dean quickly found comfort in a seemingly bottomless bottle of whiskey. This was not foreign to him in the least, his borderline alcoholism had been a crutch for many years. The feeling of all his senses being dimmed as well as his consciousness made the wretched family business and all the sorrow it brought. Dean's senses were so dimmed, he completely missed the faint sound of fluttering wings he'd grown so accustomed to.

"Dean," The familiar, gravelly voice broke the blanket of silence enclosing the Men of Letters' bunker.

"Cas," Dean jumped out of the mahogany chair and practically tackled the angel in a hug normally reserved for the younger Winchester, reassuring himself that not all of his friends gone, "You're okay"

Cas was quiet for a moment, thinking back on the past events: the torture, the slaughter of more of his kin, the stealing of his brother's grace, before giving a slow nod and a slight smile, "Yes, I am fine."

Dean snorted, looking over Cas' crumpled clothing, splattered lightly with dried blood, but took the comfort Cas was offering him, "So you said you got back your angel juice?"

"I…" Cas trailed off, not wanting to admit his crime but if he had learned anything from his past experiences with the Winchester, it was that lying in this kind of business never led to anything good, "It is not mine. I...I stole it from another angel who was conspiring to help Metatron."

"You stole an angel's grace?" Dean was dumbfound but his anger was much closer to the surface. He ran his hand over his face trying to calm down and understand where Cas was coming from but Dean found that his anger only began to grow, "What you mean you stole one of those assholes' grace? Dammit Cas is it...are you even..?"

"Yes," Cas cut him off, "I am still me, I have consciousness over the grace and it is beginning to become my own."

"So what grace is like a fucking battery? You run out of it so you just get some more?" Dean's voice rose. This reminded him far too much of the last time Cas got hold of power that wasn't this.

Cas sighed, the familiar ache in his chest since he had disappointed Dean all those years ago seemed to grow, the pain coursing through his body which he had come to know as guilt, "I can assure you Dean that I have control over this grace and that I will only be using it to aid you in stopping Metatron"

"That's not my priority right now, Cas. Sammy's in trouble and Kevin," Dean felt as his eyes began to water up again, "Cas, Kevin's dead. Gadreel…he-"

"Gadreel was here? Dean, Gadreel is a very dangerous angel," It was Cas' turn to be angry but the anger seem to transform within seconds into dread and fear for his friends' lives, "What happened to Sam and Kevin?"

"I'm gonna need another drink," Dean mumbled, slumping back into his seat motioning for Cas to take the seat across from him as he poured them both the what was left of the bottle of whiskey.

Downing majority of the liquid in his glass, Dean waited for the burning sensation of alcohol to consume his body before taking a deep breath and started to tell the story of what had really happened after he had stopped Sam from finishing the trials, sparing no gory or gruesome detail. He admitted to Cas about how Gadreel had brought both Cas and Charlie back to life and saved Sam multiple times since the angels fell. He told about all the hunts they had been on and how many Gadreel had actually helped with. He also spoke of the horrible ultimatum Gadreel had made, making him choose between two of the only people he cared about. And lastly, Dean explained how Gadreel had been tricking him all along and had killed Kevin.

Cas listened quietly, not daring to set off Dean with a single word. He winced at the description of Kevin's and his own death. He knew Dean was not sparing a gory detail when he described finding him after the reaper's torture. He wasn't sure how Dean had even been able to keep up this facade for Sam for so long. Kevin's death had been the worst of all. As Dean described the event, Cas could practically see the self-hate and guilt dripping off his wounded soul. There was no doubt in either of their minds that Dean blamed himself completely for Kevin's death.

"Dean," Cas started putting his hand on Dean's thigh, as a sign of solidarity he had seen humans do before, "We will get Sam back from Gadreel."

Dean looked up, meeting Cas' eyes with his own watery, green ones and gave a slight smile, "Thanks Cas."

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